Ninth Life
by Disrupted Original
Summary: The continuing adventures of a lucky cat and an unlucky physicist. Now with more Barney. Complete.
1. Errant Feline

_Disclaimer: I don't own Half-Life._

--

Gordon stuffed himself underneath an overturned car, ducking his head down as bullets ricocheted off the vehicle's metal skin. Panting fitfully, he shook out the spent caps in his Magnum and reloaded, only half-listening to the HEV suit's soft complaints in his ear.

The irritating sound of deflected bullets finally receded behind him. Blinking what felt like either sweat or blood, or a mixture of both, from his eyes, he slowly inched his way around the car. Gordon blew out a breath. How could_ anyone _get used to this? And he was just on _recon_.

He heard the soft _clink-clink-clink_ before he saw the dull red LED of an active grenade tumbling towards his position.

There was no time to think. And Gordon was still getting used to that.

It exploded, the car taking the brunt of the damage, flipping over onto its other side and almost crushing Gordon in its wake. His ears rang and screamed in trauma.

Two Combine soldiers trotted in, pulse rifles raised. Gordon raised his Magnum and fired, killing the first and seriously wounding the other. Then he turned and fled further down the cracked asphalt, ignoring the pain that thrummed through his body like a too-tight guitar string.

He couldn't tell if more were following him; he'd lost count long ago of how many he'd encountered on this desolate stretch of highway. The ringing in his ears was slowly fading, replaced by the sound of wind and birds. Seeking shelter beneath a rotting tree, he hunched over and panted for breath, magnum dangling loosely in one hand.

Damn, he needed a medic. Or a battery. Hell, he would be happy for a AA alkaline right now.

That, and a cold beer.

A crackling sound next to him made him scramble to his feet, heart leaping into his throat. He turned the muzzle of his gun towards the source, and halted suddenly.

Standing amongst the crackling leaves, tail waving high in the air like a flag, was a domestic cat.

Still wary, Gordon lowered the magnum slightly, stepping towards it.

It mewed, green eyes peering at him from a patchwork face.

Tentatively, Gordon bent down and reached a hand out to it, almost laughing at himself for his own caution. Were the Combine stuffing bombs in cats now?

The cat, completely oblivious to whatever danger was surely following Gordon at this moment, leaned forward and rubbed against his fingers.

A high buzzing whine came to Gordon's ears, followed by muffled, distorted voices. His stomach dropped and he gripped his magnum tightly.

Four shots left, along with his crowbar, and the Gravity Gun.

Turning away from the errant feline, he crouched down behind the fallen tree and peered between the leafless branches. Three Combine, including the one he thought he'd crippled. Pushing up his glasses with his nose, he leaned against the tree, aiming the magnum where he assumed they'd show up.

They did. Gordon fired once, twice, before they had their own machine guns trained on him. A spray of sand and loam spat in his face, and he felt the rapidly-draining HEV suit take the pain of a bullet in his leg. He shot again. Two down. Their flatlines buzzed out into nothingness.

The last one threw a grenade. Panicking, Gordon pulled out the Gravity Gun, grabbing the beeping grenade and throwing it back, just in time for it to explode brilliantly white against the grey sky. Then something blotted out the sun for a split-second- Gordon didn't even have time to move aside-

Blackness, and silence.

--

_Seek medical attention. Seek medical attention._

The lull of the HEV's voice cut through the haze that was Gordon's world, depositing him harshly back into light and fire. He blinked against the too-bright overcast sky, wondering how exactly he'd ended up on his back. Something moved against his side and he started in fear, reaching for what he hoped was any sort of weapon.

He came up with his crowbar, undamaged by whatever had damaged _him_, and raised it.

A pair of inquisitive green eyes stared at him brightly.

The cat. How had it survived at all, when Gordon had been knocked senseless for God knows how long?

It looked miraculously unharmed, and, Gordon noted as he slowly rose to a sitting position, a little old. Her black spots were flecked with silver, and her hair was short and scruffy like a creature left to fend for itself.

He liked her. She reminded Gordon of himself right about now.

She mewed plaintively again, rubbing herself against one of his arms.

Gordon coughed. Now he _really, really _needed a medic. He felt the familiar dull pain of what was probably a fracture in his leg, masked by the HEV suit's morphine.

What the hell had hit him?

Looking around, he spotted a car door. Further ahead, he saw the remains of a car, and Combine corpses.

Great. Brained by an exploding vehicle.

There were more embarrassing ways to die.

A large knot had made a home on his head, and he rubbed it ruefully as he got slowly to his feet. The cat meowed, snaking itself round his ankles. Gordon frowned down at it as he collected his weapons. _You'll lose what's left of your nine lives if you follow me, cat, _he thought.

It was surprisingly silent now, and not just because of his partial hearing loss. Gordon knelt down and picked up the only intact SMG he could find on the bodies, holstering his magnum in favor of a quicker weapon.

Gordon started off down the road, feeling a chill wind blow at the back of his neck.

He looked back after a few minutes. The cat was right behind him. She meowed at his look and flicked her tail from side to side.

Gordon shook his head. He definitely didn't want to worry about a cat right now. After all, he had White Forest-- and Alyx-- to go back to.

_(A/N. Inspired by a video I saw of a calico cat in G-Mod. Should I continue? Please let me know. Also, this takes place after Gordon reaches White Forest, but before the Strider/Hunter battle. I'd like to say that the big fight didn't begin _right_ after Gordon and Alyx reached the base.)_


	2. A Short Chase

The old highway was quieter than he'd expected it to be. Combine had been patrolling the area ruthlessly since the Citadel had been destroyed-- they knew that White Forest was somewhere nearby. Gordon had taken the long way round, completely avoiding White Forest Inn. He'd already been ambushed there once, and he had no urge for it to happen again, especially not when he was alone.

It was getting to be later in the evening now. Gordon quickened his pace. The only thing worse than being ambushed and alone would have to be ambushed and alone in the _dark_. He had hoped to be able to take the car, but unfortunately it had been in dire need of repairs. Alyx had confiscated the thing, fearful to let him drive it and explode at fifty miles an hour.

He spared a quick glance over his shoulder, surprised to find only empty road behind him. The cat must have fallen behind, or taken its own path to its own destinations. Somehow, he didn't feel anything other than vague relief. He would have felt bad if the cat had been killed just because it was following him.

When Gordon turned to take the streambed back to base, he realized that someone had cleared the highway tunnel of debris and concrete. Combine, he figured, and they were probably still around.

Which was perfect timing. They weren't going to get any closer to White Forest.

Keeping himself low and his flashlight off, Gordon crept into the tunnel, listening to the mournful howl of the wind as it pushed at his back. He was about a hundred feet in when he saw the gleam of dim light on grey metal. Squinting, he hung back. It was a Combine APC, and behind it, he saw the dim light of what was probably a lamp, tossing shadows on the cracked walls.

Gordon breathed out slowly, trying to stay as quiet as possible. If he could sneak up on them, he might be able to take them all out without getting killed. Suddenly, he got the feeling that entering the cleared tunnel had been a very, _very_ bad idea.

He heard footsteps echoing behind him, and the growling, incomprehensible voice of Combine.

Oh yes, this had been a terrible idea.

Gordon tightened his finger on the trigger of the MP7. His heart clawed at the base of his throat.

The Combine drew closer, apparently unaware of him, snarling a conversation amongst themselves that Gordon couldn't decipher.

He had to move. Lifting the MP7, he fired the only grenade he had, throwing the approaching Overwatch back into sunlight. Immediately he turned, ready to fire at the ones near the APC, scrambling backwards all the while.

A long moment passed where he actually thought they either hadn't heard the grenade or had ignored it.

Then the APC rumbled to life, throwing a blinding blue light into his face.

Gordon ran.

He realized he'd been doing a lot of that today.

The APC began spraying pulse fire at him, and he felt the shocking burn as one passed dangerously close to his left ear. Breathing hard, Gordon flung himself as fast as he could out into open, immediately scrambling to the right and down the incline to the streambed.

Behind him, the Combine APC shot out of the tunnel opening, turning its pulse rifle towards him before following his path into the water. Gordon zigzagged down the streambed, avoiding the spray of pulse rounds all around him. Replacing the MP7 with the Gravity Gun, he grabbed for the closest object he could find-- a log-- and hurled it at the APC. The object bounced uselessly off of the vehicle's bumper.

He should have known. Should have saved a grenade.

Shouldn't have run off to do this damn mission.

Feet slipping on the loose rocks of the streambed, he tumbled. Panic flooded his veins, images of his own body crushed beneath the wheels of the APC coming to his mind. Climbing to his feet, he threw himself behind a large boulder. Leaning against it for support, he panted hoarsely.

The APC was still behind him, spraying pulse fire almost randomly. Gordon heard it splash loudly through the water, mowing down small trees as it went.

His lungs were burning and his vision was beginning to swim. He felt his eye begin to sting again as fresh blood dripped into it.

He really, really wanted his car right now.

The APC was still coming for him. He heard it kicking up gravel and hoped that it would crush itself on the boulder he was currently hiding behind.

It didn't. Instead, it went completely around the obstacle, skidding to a stop as it spotted him.

Gordon dragged himself to the other side of the rock, realizing that, very soon, he would be dead. He couldn't stop the APC. It would mow him down, and continue through the streambed, until...

The physicist steeled himself. Like _hell_ he was going to lead it back to White Forest.

Breathing heavily, he readied for a final sprint to lead the vehicle in the other direction-- make it think he was trying to get back to base. He paused to cough, and watched with a detached eye as blood splattered the smooth stones beneath him. When had he started bleeding internally?

Gordon shook his head. It didn't matter.

He left the Gravity Gun and MP7 behind along with the crowbar and the Magnum. He didn't need weapons right now-- they would only weigh him down.

The APC came back around, and Gordon took off.

Pulse rifle fire sang in the air all around him. Something hit his arm with a burning bite. He ignored it.

Then, there was a strange 'woo-woo' sound, almost like a toy train. The sound... he couldn't even believe he'd heard it. But he had.

Gordon didn't think he'd ever be so happy to see Dog. But there he was, galloping round the corner, almost trampling Gordon in his wake. The robot went straight for the APC, grabbing its angled front with both hands. The Combine inside were still firing the pulse rifle, only this time with an air of panic. The blue fire didn't phase the robot even at point-blank range.

Dog centered himself, then hurled the APC through the air. It tumbled slowly in a half-arc before slamming into a thick copse of trees, landing on its back. Immediately, Dog bounded after it, tearing away at the vehicle's underbelly with a howling vigor.

Gordon watched it all, unsure if he was having a hallucination brought on by some sort of near-death experience. When Dog came loping back to him, offering up the crushed pulse rifle, Gordon smiled.

"Good boy."

And he promptly passed out.

_(A/N: The cat comes back next chapter, I promise.)_


	3. The Problem With Cats

Gordon slowly awoke to a soft sound in his ears. It wasn't annoying, nor was it threatening. Actually, it was a little comforting. There was something soft beneath him, and as he sluggishly felt around to see what it was, he realized he'd been taken out of his hazard suit.

Blinking his eyes open, he was greeted by dim light and shadows dancing on the edge of his vision.

Then he remembered what had happened. The exploding sedan, the tunnel, the APC... the cat... and Dog. His memories were muddled, and he had a hard time discerning them from reality.

The soft, comforting sound came back, and he glanced around to find the source. Someone was moving around a few feet away from him, humming a gentle tune.

"Hello," he said quietly, distantly. Even his voice felt like it was coming from far away.

The figure turned, and he recognized it as one of the medics that worked in the infirmary at White Forest. Gordon breathed a sigh of relief he didn't realize he'd been holding back. Somehow, with incredibly uncharacteristic luck, he'd made it back.

"Good morning," the medic said, all business. She immediately began checking his vitals, placing the cold stethoscope on his chest. He jumped slightly, but soon she was onto another task-- sticking a thermometer in his ear with a sort of clinical detachment he thought was only reserved for nurses at retirement homes. He'd always hated hospitals, hated being under the mercy of someone he barely knew.

"What happened?" Gordon asked as soon as she was done poking at his throat, probably checking his lymph nodes for infection.

"Alyx's robot brought you back here a few hours ago," the medic answered, tone neutral. He got the feeling she didn't really like him. "You had a concussion and a fractured femur," she began listing off his problems one-by-one, toneless voice reminding him of the HEV suit, "two broken ribs, and a minor laceration over your eye."

"Oh," was all Gordon could say. The medic, apparently satisfied with the results of his examination, handed him a tiny paper cup with a pile of multicolored pills inside.

"Take these," she ordered.

"What are they?" Gordon asked, squinting at them before realizing he didn't have his glasses.

"Antibiotics, pain relievers..." she started, and he turned away, looking for his glasses. He found them laying next to him, miraculously unharmed and clean. "There's also an anti-inflammatory in there."

Gordon pushed his glasses onto his face. "Can't you give me a shot?"

"Out of stock, at the moment," the medic answered with an air of irritation. "You'll have to make do with what we've salvaged."

"Oh," Gordon repeated, dumbly, not sure of what to say about that either.

Fortunately, he didn't have to say anything else, because Alyx barged into the room at that exact moment.

"Gordon!" she breathed, relief crossing her features. She crossed the room and sat on the edge of his mattress-turned-hospital-bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Gordon answered truthfully, trying his best to give her a reassuring smile. The medic, screwing her face up in disgust, left the room.

"Dog found you a few miles south and carried you all the way back here. We all thought you were dead." Alyx got up and retrieved him a cup of water, since the medic hadn't thought to. "What the hell happened out there? I thought you were just checking things out."

"I got hit by a car."

Alyx's eyebrows rose fractionally. "A car."

Gordon swallowed the pills slowly, one by one. "It exploded."

She shook her head fractionally. "The medic said you should probably take it easy for a while. Couple days, at least."

"Not likely," Gordon told her quietly, finishing the pills and the water.

"I mean it. Don't let Magnusson push you around anymore. You almost _died_, Gordon."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

Alyx shoved him softly. "Don't joke about this. I'm serious."

"I know."

Movement stirred in his periphreal vision, and he turned to look.

All he saw was a small pair of fuzzy patchwork haunches dissapearing around the open infirmary door.

Gordon blinked rapidly, wanting to rub at his eyes. Was he hallucinating? How the hell would the cat get into White Forest? Had it followed him all the way here?

He looked at Alyx, then back towards the door. Gingerly, he got to his feet, testing his leg. It wasn't as bad as he'd suspected it to be, but his sides flared immediately with pain. He ignored that as well as the wave of dizziness that crashed into him as he stood.

"Gordon," Alyx breathed, genuine worry in her voice, "you gotta be careful."

"I know that," he answered, distracted with wandering off after the cat. He found the adjacent corridor empty, and all of the subsequent doors shut. A frown crossed his features.

"What is it, Gordon?" Alyx asked, coming up behind him.

Gordon kept silent, not wanting to worry her even more by telling her he'd seen things that weren't really there.

--

As it turned out, Gordon was completely wrong about the hallucination.

Alyx had accompanied him in a walk through the base, but had broken away when they'd passed Magnusson's rocket lab to visit her father. Instead of following her, he turned the other way and went to the dining hall.

Gordon sat at an unoccupied table, tray wobbling on its dented surface. The Vortigaunt cooks had made soup and veritable tons of bread. The soup was thin and tasteless, but it was warm, and Gordon couldn't have cared less if it had been made of lakewater and a dandelion.

He was chewing thoughtfully, considering searching down Kleiner and asking for something to do, when the unmistakably tiny form of a cat caught his eye. It was trotting casually underneath tables, tail high in the air. Gordon watched it for a few minutes, unsure of himself, before slowly getting up and walking after it. The few Resistance members dining in the hall didn't seem to notice it.

Gordon followed the little cat to the end of one corridor and then down a flight of stairs, where he cornered it within a storage room filled with crates and barrels.

"Here, kitty, kitty," he spoke softly as it jumped up on a crate and looked at him. Gordon inspected it closely. It _was_ the cat he'd seen on the highway, complete with graying fur and curious green eyes. She mewed and flicked her tail in greeting, as if finally realizing who he was.

Somehow still afraid that the cat was a hallucination, Gordon reached over and scratched her chin. Purring, the cat rubbed her head roughly against his fingers.

Bending over, Gordon picked her up. She was surprisingly light and thin. He got the feeling he would break her just by holding her. However, the cat continued to purr, tail waving back and forth contentedly.

Gordon remembered owning a cat, a long time ago, before the Combine and Black Mesa and even his college days. _His_ cat had been a huge black tom that he'd adopted from an animal shelter when he was eight. He'd named him Jake. Jake lived a good long time-- almost fifteen. He remembered his parents calling him at college with the news that his cat had gone into kidney failure and passed away quietly at a veterinarian's office.

Jake was a good cat. Gordon blinked down at his scrawny little calico with a slight frown. He hoped she didn't have fleas.

He carried her back upstairs to the dining hall, where he offered her crumbs of bread and a saucer of water-- both of which she consumed greedily. Afterwards, she sat down on the bench and stared at him, tail still waving gently from side to side.

Gordon frowned, unsure of what to do. He assumed that when she'd been fed and given water, that she'd turn tail and wander away. Picking her up gently, he deposited her on the floor and gave her a little push in the opposite direction. Magnusson would never let him hear the end of it if he kept a cat in the base. Kleiner himself had enough problems with his pet headcrab.

"Go away," Gordon told the cat, trying to be callous. "I can't keep you."

Instead of leaving, she sat down beside him with an almost smug look on her craggy face, and refused to budge.

Gordon sighed. If Lamarr didn't eat the poor cat, then surely its life outside would.

Either way, it wasn't leaving him. Once he stood up to leave, empty tray in hand, the cat got to her feet and trotted after him, snaking herself round his ankles. It was awkward, especially when he passed a pair of Resistance members on the other side of the dining hall, who snickered softly.

He gave them a glare and placed his tray on top of the other dirty ones.

"Oh, Doctor Freeman! What a cute cat!"

Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, Gordon turned. One of the younger Resistance members had come up behind him. Her bright eyes immediately spotted the cat. She bent down and started petting it.

"Where did you find it?"

"_She_ found _me_."

The girl cooed softly to the cat, who accepted the attention hungrily.

"You want her?" Gordon asked suddenly.

"Really? Awesome!" She lifted the cat up in her arms. "I've always wanted one. I'm gonna put her in my room right now."

Gordon breathed an almost imperceptible sigh of relief, glad that he didn't have to care for the scruffy little thing. He watched the Resistance member leave, then wandered up to the rocket lab to find something to do.

--

That night, as Gordon lay half-asleep on his cot, a soft knock on the door roused him.

"Doctor Freeman?" came a soft female voice.

The cold air was almost shocking as he rolled from the warmth of the blanket. His leg gave a sharp jolt of pain as he stumbled to the door and opened it.

And there was the cat, along with a rather angry-looking young Resistance member.

"I'm sorry, Doc, but this cat..."

Gordon got the feeling she didn't have to explain. Her face was covered in scratches. The cat looked as innocent as could be as it jumped from the girl's arms and into Gordon's room.

"She's been trying her damnedest to get away from me. I've chased her down here three times now. This time she stopped right here and wouldn't move."

"Great," Gordon breathed, too tired to think about it.

"So you'll take her back? Perfect!"

Before he could say anything different, the girl was gone, and he'd shut his door in a daze.

The cat was already sleeping on his cot when he went back to it.

(A/N: Next up, the cat meets Alyx and the rest of the crew. Hopefully, Lamarr doesn't try to eat her. Also, what do you think would be a good name for a cat? Let me know what you think!)


	4. Nadia

Gordon didn't like thinking about it, but falling asleep scared him. A while ago, or perhaps decades ago, sleeping had been one of his hobbies. He'd been known for being able to sleep anywhere-- and he'd sleep like a log. But that was in another time, and another place altogether. Being attacked whilst asleep had not been one of his major concerns back then.

Sleep frightened him, because with sleep came dreams. Before, his dreams had been about happiness and women and light. Now...

Now they were filled with fire, and screams, and fear.

He hated to dream.

But eventually, his human body would wind down like a dusty clock, and he'd _have_ to sleep. If he timed it right, and pushed himself hard enough, his sleep would be deep and dreamless-- a result of exhaustion and malnutrition.

Now that he wasn't constantly on the run, with actual _free time_, he didn't know how to do it.

Resistance members would find him prowling White Forest late at night, looking for things to do, ways to distract himself from fear.

This night, Gordon had made the mistake of actually _trying_ to sleep. He huddled down in the blanket on his drafty cot in his even draftier room, cat at his side, and drifted off.

It was dark. Ravenholm stood before him, menacing, dilapidated buildings seemingly ushering him inside. Fires licked at crumbling brick walls. Dried blood painted the grass a rusty color. Everywhere around him came the sound of some dying thing, howling for release. Claws scraped at doors and windows as he passed them.

His weapons. Where were his weapons? No longer was his path lit by the gentle glow of the gravity gun. He didn't even have the cool metal of the heavy crowbar in his hand to comfort him. With dismay, he realized that the HEV suit was gone, replaced with a blue jumpsuit.

Ahead of him shuffled a zombie, weighed down by a half-dozen headcrabs fighting for nourishment. It screamed. The headcrabs clicked and chittered softly.

Gordon backed away. Flames licked at the air behind him.

Ravenholm itself seemed to be closing in on him. The maniacal laugh of the city's last standing human rang in his ears.

Screeching, a zombie leapt down before him, running on all fours, filling the air with the noise of metal scraping together.

"Gordon," it squealed.

The scientist was cornered. His heart rocketed into his throat as the zombie jumped forward, claws outstretched, reaching toward his face-

"Gordon!"

He was awake in milliseconds, pistol in hand, finger already tugging on the trigger. His own harsh pant filled the dark, silent room. Dropping the gun in his lap, he pressed his palms into his eyes, trying to forget about the nightmare. He never would.

Because he would never forget Ravenholm.

A soft sound made him stiffen and reach for his gun again, hairs on the back of his neck rising. There _was_ something there. It wasn't far. Padding across the room. Heading towards him.

He felt the depressions on the cot as it jumped on the bed. Hesitating, he reached his hand out.

A cold nose and a soft _miaow_ greeted him there.

Gordon instantly relaxed, expelling a rough sigh of air. He put the gun back beneath the cot and rubbed the cat's head, while pinching the bridge of his own nose.

His heart was still pounding fearfully in his chest.

--

It was still early in the morning when Gordon got up. The base was quiet save for the perpetual sound of the rocket humming in the silo, and hushed voices coming from behind closed doors. He pulled on the pair of jeans and hooded sweater that he wore when not in his HEV suit and walked quietly through the halls. The cat remained at his heels, although he appreciated that she never got underfoot.

The morning sun was just barely peeking over the horizon, spreading lilac tendrils of light across the maimed sky. Gordon sat at the curving edge of the cliff that overlooked the base, staring at the sky, trying not to think.

He felt better than he had yesterday. His leg still complained from time to time, but things like pain and hunger were part of his life now-- he barely noticed them anymore. Maybe today, he'd be able to actually find something to help the Resistance instead of lounging around the base all day.

The cat had crawled into his lap as he sat watching the sun rise. Unconsciously, he ran his fingers through her scruffy fur, twisting her ears gently.

It had been a long time since he'd actually watched time pass in this fashion. Sometimes he never got the chance to notice that the sun was painting a picture above him. Most of the time he was always in a rush, chasing the sunset, trying not to be trapped in the dark.

A sound came to his ears from behind him. Scrambling to his feet, he pulled out the pistol that he always kept with him, and raised it in the direction of the sound. The cat jumped down, obviously flustered at being shoved off.

"Show yourself," Gordon called into the half-light of the morning.

"It's me," came the instantly recognizable voice of Alyx Vance. She didn't seem shaken at all by the fact that Gordon had nearly shot her. "I saw you leave and I came to see if you were alright."

Gordon lowered his pistol as she came walking out of the thin mixture of trees and fog. He felt a smile come onto his face. "I'm alright," he told her, although those words were practically automatic when coming from the mouth of Gordon Freeman.

Alyx stepped down next to him, gaze turned to the sky. "It would look a lot nicer without the superportal there," she commented.

They stood there together, in silence, for a long while before Alyx suddenly jumped with a yelp, which made Gordon look around frantically for the reason. He didn't even need to draw his pistol, because there wasn't a zombie anywhere nearby-- the cat had come up to Alyx and rubbed against her ankles.

"Aw," she muttered, bending down. "I haven't seen a cat in years. Has it been here all this time?"

Gordon nodded. "She keeps following me."

"_She?_" Alyx chuckled, scratching the cat's chin.

"I thought all calico cats were female," Gordon explained, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I think you're right." She continued to pet the scrawny thing. "Where did you find her?"

"On the highway, on my way back yesterday. I guess she followed me all the way here."

Alyx grinned and picked the cat up. "She's so friendly. What's her name?"

"I haven't really... thought about it." It was the truth. Gordon desperately didn't want to become attached to another living thing-- that is, he didn't want _her_ to become attached to _him._ What if he died? Who would feed her? "Maybe you should name her."

"Really?" Alyx's grin widened, if that was possible, and he inspected the cat at arm's length. "How about Nadia?"

"Well, it's better than 'Cat.'"

"Don't want me to keep with my scheme, Gordon?"

He laughed softly, almost imperceptibly. "Nadia it is, then."

--

Gordon wasn't sure what to expect from Magnusson when he eventually did venture back to the rocket silo. The cat followed him all the way there, sitting at his feet as he descended in the elevator, and rubbing against Alyx's legs whenever they paused. Before the elevator had even finished its descent, Gordon could hear Magnusson arguing with his assistant about schematics and speed and fuel consumption.

"Maybe we should come back later," Gordon said softly, and Alyx just shook her head.

As soon as Magnusson spotted Gordon, his target of verbal attack immediately switched.

"Ah, Doctor Freeman. I see your stay in the infirmary was as short as ever. I wish you had come to tell me what had happened in person, instead of sending Ms. Vance in your stead."

"He was kind of, you know, unconscious," Alyx said defensively.

Magnusson just waved her away with one hand. "So tell me Doctor Freeman, what did you find out there on the high--" his words suddenly halted. "What the hell is _that_?" And he pointed at Nadia.

Gordon frowned. "It's a cat."

"Well I can see _that_. What is it doing in the base?" Magnusson glared down at the feline, who waved her tail like a flag and meowed at him. "Disgusting thing. Probably covered in fleas and everything else..."

Once again, Alyx stepped up in defense. "She's not bothering you. So leave her alone!"

Gordon just looked at Alyx as she picked the cat up in her arms, then back to Magnusson. "I just came by to see how things are going with the rocket," he explained, drawing Magnusson's attention from Alyx and the cat.

Magnusson just gave him a low glare and frowned his perpetual frown. "I appreciate your interest in the project, Freeman, but I can't say I require any particular help at this point," he huffed, "crowbar-themed or otherwise."

Gordon shrugged, not really sure what to say to that.

He felt Alyx tug on his arm, and left alongside her.

"Magnusson has an exceptionally large stick up his ass today, Gordon."

"Apparently."

"Think it's your fault?"

"It usually is."

--

It was around noon when the trio began heading down to the dining hall for lunch. Alyx was explaining to Gordon how the rebels around the base took down Hunters when a brown blur came screeching out of nowhere.

"Lamarr! Lamarr, come back!"

The mousy voice of Kleiner was echoed by a monumental screech from Nadia, who'd suddenly found herself tackled by eight pounds of headcrab. Lamarr chittered madly as the cat screeched and lashed out in fear.

Gordon reached down and plucked the headcrab off of the cat. Lamarr twisted fiercely in his grip, hissing. Nadia turned tail and fled down the hall, followed by Alyx trying to catch her.

"My goodness, Gordon, she gave me quite a start!"

Kleiner pushed his glasses up his nose and took the squirming pet from Gordon, looking down at the cat.

"Oh, that must be the cat everyone is talking about these days," he said, while the indignant Lamarr climbed onto his head and seemed to sulk there. "My apologies. Hedy must have thought it was a snack!"

Gordon just shrugged. "Everything seems to be out to get that cat."

Kleiner laughed. "That sounds a lot like you, actually." Satisfied with his observation, the scientist continued down the hall, leaving Gordon alone and staring after him.

At least _something_ knew how he felt these days.

(A/N: Many thanks to all my reviewers. I really appreciate it. It's surprising to see how many people frequent this fanfiction section! I hope you like the story so far. I've really enjoyed writing it.)


	5. Barney

An alarm klaxon blared near dusk, jolting Gordon upright as he cleaned his pistol.

"Combine, heading towards the base!" someone had shouted.

It took Gordon three minutes to suit up and two minutes to lock the cat in a closet so she wouldn't follow him out to battle. One more minute and he was at the gates, pulse rifle firmly in hand as he climbed up a guard tower. The rebel there greeted him in a rush.

"We've spotted eight of them. Two Hunters, two Overwatch Elite."

Gordon nodded, checking to make sure he had an energy ball stored in the pulse rifle, in case he had to take out a Hunter in close-combat.

"We're gonna try to take them out from up here. Lower the amount of casualties."

The rebel handed him a crossbow.

"Take this. Try to stop them before they get too close."

Gordon spoke a quick thanks and then got to business, lifting the crossbow scope. He took a quick sweep of the nearby area, then worked his way outwards, listening to the hum of the weapon as it super-heated the rebar.

There-- he spotted two of them, wearing dark clothing speckled with mud and loam. Adjusting his footing, he kept the sight steady on the furthest one, and fired. There was an agonizing, yet satisfying scream as the rebar connected. Gordon reloaded and looked out again.

The rest of the Combine drifted into view, moving at a fast rate.

Moving away from the base.

Gordon squinted, wondering why the _hell_ they had suddenly gone the other direction.

Then, he heard the sound of a car engine backfiring, somewhere in the woods.

He acted before he even thought about it. Slinging the rifle over his shoulder and keeping the crossbow in his free hand, he descended the ladder and bounded into the woodlands. Rebels shouted after him, angered at his sudden leave.

Jumping over fallen logs and dodging between trees, he kept his ears open for the sound of the engine again. The first Combine was a few hundred meters away, which he pegged cleanly in the back of the head. The second paused to see what had happened, and he hit that one square in the temple.

Something squealed behind him, and he felt his blood run cold. A Hunter was fast approaching, heavy footsteps pounding in his ears. In a panic, he dropped the crossbow and brought up the rifle, firing the secondary trigger before he'd even gotten a clean shot. The Hunter had been mere meters away, but was now quickly turning into a sparkling cloud of dust and ash.

Gordon looked around frantically for the second one, remembering what the rebel had said about the Combine count. A moment passed where he was certain the other Hunter would come barreling out of the trees to run him down, but it never happened. Picking up the crossbow, he continued his path towards the seemingly fleeing Combine.

Ahead, he heard the groan of tires in mud and the rev of a taxed automobile engine. He also heard a handful of flatlines following the thumping sound of pulse rifle fire.

Gordon let out a breath. It was a rebel. It had to be. And he-- or she-- was driving a car. They had probably been driving towards White Forest when the Combine had spotted them, and had taken another route to draw them away from the base, much like Gordon himself had just the other day.

Another sprint, and Gordon was thrown out of the woodlands and into a small clearing littered with Combine bodies. Tire tracks had been spun fresh in the dirt, tearing up the grass. Gordon followed the tracks, hoping that the rebel would survive long enough for him to get there.

Suddenly, he halted. A huffing sound hailed him from the opposite end of the clearing.

Gordon turned, once again tossing aside the crossbow in favor of the rifle.

The second Hunter stood there, iridescent shell glinting the light. It let out a rough snarl, then charged.

The next few moments passed like milliseconds. The Hunter, completely obsessed with Gordon, failed to notice a blue sedan rocketing out of the trees near it. The sedan, already going at a high speed, gunned its engines and rammed the Hunter head-on.

Gordon had never seen one fly so far before. It sailed through the air and landed in a tangled heap on the other side of the clearing. Expelling a large, nervous breath, Gordon leaned the pulse rifle on his shoulder and approached the sedan.

The driver's side door opened with a creak, and Barney Calhoun grinned at him from the tattered seat.

"How's it going?" he asked, as if talking to him from across a placid street.

Gordon just gaped. "You made it!"

Barney leaned back in the seat, grin widening. "I can't believe you got here first."

"What took you?"

"Oh, you know," Barney pushed open the passenger seat door and motioned for Gordon to get in, "scheduling conflicts. And all those dates..."

Still holding his rifle close to him, Gordon settled into the seat.

"Actually, I got stuck down in one of the old refugee camps. I managed to make it to a rebel base. They hooked me up with this car."

"What happened to the others?" Gordon asked, almost immediately regretting doing so after seeing the pained look cross his friend's face.

"They... well, most of them made it to that base. Some of 'em..." the ex-security guard shook his head. "You can only do so much, you know?"

Silence fell between the two, broken eventually by Barney switching the car to drive. The ride back was spent in the same quiet, Gordon wondering which of Barney's dead rebels he had shepherded across the trainyard. Now that he thought about it, there weren't any alive after he'd crawled out of the train wreckage, either.

Barney parked his sedan next to Gordon's Dodge inside the base.

"Well, here's the reason you got here before me. That car is kickass." There was less enthusiasm behind his voice than earlier. Gordon just gave him a weak smile.

Alyx met them in the hall, overjoyed to see Barney again.

"We thought you hadn't made it," she said, pulling him into a tight hug. "Kleiner's going to fall over when he hears you're back."

"Well, good. I like to keep him on his toes. He still got that face-chewing pest of his?"

Alyx smiled. "Of course."

"Alright, then I have something to do with my time."

Gordon listened to them converse about what had been going on in the base, standing complacently nearby. After a few minutes, he realized there was nothing being said that he didn't already know, and began to walk away.

The cat was still in the closet where he'd left her an hour ago, only this time squalling anxiously to be let out. Gordon did, and she busied herself with tripping up his HEV-covered legs.

"Hey, Nadia," he said softly, reaching down to scratch her head.

He heard Alyx and Barney's conversation echoing around the corner, toward him, meaning they were probably going to head down to Magnusson's rocket lab to help. Gordon turned to greet them as they rounded the corner.

Barney, however, immediately halted, looking as if he'd seen a ghost.

But he was looking at the cat.

Gordon frowned, looking from him to Alyx, who tilted her head in understanding.

"Wh... where did you find _that_?" Barney managed to stutter after a long, uncomfortable pause.

"On the highway," Gordon said.

"That looks just like..." he bent down and held out his hand to her, "it looks just like _that_ cat."

"What cat?" Alyx asked, but her own words brought her memories tumbling back and her mouth formed a small 'o'.

Barney pet the cat gently under the chin before it became bored with him and trotted back to Gordon. "It really likes ya, huh buddy?"

Gordon nodded. "Alyx calls her Nadia."

The cat mewed softly and continued to bother with Gordon's legs, begging for food.

"So what _did_ happen to that cat?" Alyx pried, but Barney would have none of it.

"I'm not at liberty to say. That'd be something to ask Dr. Kleiner." Straightening up, he nodded his head in the general direction of the rocket lab. "Ready to go?"

When they reached the rocket lab, Magnusson immediately expelled Gordon until he could return feline-free.

So Gordon returned to his room, set the cat up with a bowl of water and bread crumbs he salvaged from the kitchens, and shut her in. He heard her mournful yowl as he retreated down the hallway, and the scratch of her claws on the cheap plywood door as she tried to follow him.

--

Surprisingly enough, Magnusson and Barney actually got along quite nicely. Barney was laid-back enough to not take offense at Magnusson's aggressive personality, but humorous enough to actually make the older doctor snort in occasional laughter.

Gordon decided to stick with Barney when he needed to see Magnusson from now on.

As it were, he was happy to stay behind and simply listen to their conversations as he stared at the rocket, marveling at its construction and the obvious power that lay behind it despite the lack of supplies to the Resistance. Eventually Eli and Kleiner joined them, and Gordon realized he hadn't seen him since he'd left for his mission out on the highway.

The reunion was short-lived, broken up quickly by Magnusson demanding more field tests on some sticky bomb weapon. However, it was clear to Gordon that having the old gang back together again was going to make things around White Forest a lot easier.

It also made the absence of Dr. Mossman even more obvious. The data packet that Alyx had taken from the Citadel was still being read, and likely would take days to completely decode. Computers in the base were all salvaged, and weren't exactly the quickest pieces of hardware on the planet. Information on the double-turncoat Doctor would have put him at greater ease, even if he were to receive news that she was dead. He needed _something_.

Gordon watched his friends silently with a smile on his face, truly glad that none of them had been hurt or killed fleeing from City 17-- especially so with Alyx and Eli. Eli had been like a father to him back at Black Mesa, and seemed even more so now. And Alyx...

Well, Alyx was closer to him than anyone else had ever been after Black Mesa-- possibly even before the resonance cascade.

The thought comforted him, bringing him back to the memories of her on a cold steel table, Vortigaunts hovering above her, and...

_That _man.

Well, the memory of _him_ made Gordon shiver a little, uncontrollably.

And that was when warning sirens began to blare in Silo Two.

(A/N: I know, I know, Barney is nowhere to be found in Episode Two. Oh well. I remembered a Resistance member in the garage base working on a blue car in Episode Two, and I immediately thought, 'Who exactly ended up with that car?' Turned out to be Barney. Awesome.)

(EDIT: Fixed a line that cheezburgerlover pointed out. Appreciated, and thanks for the reviews, friend!)


	6. Eggs and Shells

Three hours later, Gordon returned from Silo Two. His limp was a lot more pronounced this time around.

"They were certainly _not_ a bunch of crows," he complained softly to Magnusson, who had stayed above the entire time shouting for him to move faster. The Combine had forced themselves into the base, even having the time to set up a turret gun before Gordon was able to stop them. A slight frown creased his face as he laid the broken turret on the first table he could find.

Disaster averted, Gordon headed down to the infirmary to make sure he hadn't _completely_ shattered his leg this time. It was becoming more and more difficult getting out of the HEV suit without yelping in pain.

He had only been there for a few minutes when the door opened. Barney stuck his head in with a wry smile.

"I see you've gotten yourself into trouble again, Gordon," he laughed, leaning against the wall.

"And back out. Again," Gordon replied softly, ending his sentence with a slight wince as the medic stuck another needle into his leg. He didn't even bother to defend himself with a _Well, it wasn't _my_ idea to go down there..._

"If you keep it up at this rate, there won't be much of your suit left," said Barney, looking over at the battered HEV, which was currently being cleaned and repaired by one of the Resistance members. Barney returned his gaze to Gordon's. "There won't be much of _you_ left, either."

The physicist just shrugged and watched with vague curiousity as the medic placed a light wrap around his shin. At least he got more than a syringe full of painkiller this time.

"Wiggle your toes for me," the medic ordered. Gordon did so, noticing that he'd been seen by a different medic this time-- this one was a bit more gentle and kind. "Okay, you're good to go."

He slid slowly off of the cold table, placing as much weight as he could on his uninjured leg. Tugging on his old sweater, he crossed the room to Barney, pleased that he wasn't limping _too_ badly.

"I'm starving," Gordon said, almost eagerly. "Want to get something to eat?"

"Yeah. Sounds good, buddy."

--

The dining hall was filled with the sounds of clinking forks and chattering people. Gordon realized with dismay that it was early morning already, and this was breakfast.

They sat at an unoccupied table, eating in companionable silence. This time the Vortigaunts had cooked some sort of meaty egg dish. Gordon wasn't sure where the meat came from, and he wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to know.

Barney told him anyway.

"Headcrab is really good if it's cooked correctly."

Immediately Gordon gagged on his mouthful of food, struggling not to vomit. Desperately, he grabbed his drink and used it to force the stuff down.

It was perfectly obvious that Barney was trying his hardest not to laugh. "Barnacle milk isn't bad either," he said, motioning to the now-empty cup. Gordon felt the blood drain from his face, remembering all of the headcrabs and barnacles he'd killed messily.

"Oh, and those eggs?" Barney winked. "Where do you think all the bullsquids went?"

"Oh God." Gordon set his suddenly hot forehead on the cold metal of the table. "I'm going to faint," he said factually, already feeling his stomach churn violently. "Do they really eat all that?"

Barney burst out laughing. "Hell no! You're the most gullible guy I've ever met." He was overcome by another fit of chuckles, between which he continued to eat.

He didn't think he was going to vomit anymore, but the mere thought of _eating_ those things made Gordon's appetite vanish. Pushing the plate away, he put his head in his hands and wondered why he was cursed with such a sensitive stomach. At least he could give the leftovers to his cat, who, hopefully, hadn't clawed his door down yet. He started to wonder if he had some sort of magnetism for ones in need of aid.

Or maybe an invisible sign above his head that read: _Hey! I'm an enabler!_

"...Some sort of new weapons testing."

Gordon shook his head, realizing that he'd completely spaced out. "I'm sorry, what?"

"They're going to be testing something of Magnusson's. A weapon for taking out Striders," Barney said, scraping his fork around the small scraps of egg left.

Gordon nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think I heard something about that."

"I think I'm gonna go out and help them. Wanna come along?"

"I have to feed my cat."

"That the first time you've used that excuse?" Barney snickered softly at his own joke. "See you around, bud."

--

Nadia was, as always, happy to see Gordon. He opened the door to his room and she shot out like a crossbow bolt, twisting herself up at his ankles and tugging at the wrap around his shin.

"No, no," he said, putting down the uneaten plate of food. "Here."

She ate the whole plate at a greedy pace, growling if he came too close.

He sat on his cot and began the arduous task of cleaning all of his weapons-- a project he'd only just started when the Combine had first attacked the base. Finishing the pistol, he moved on to the Magnum-- the same one he'd collected in the Antlion caves, and thought of as his lucky charm-- carefully and methodically dismantling it.

Nadia was finished by the time he'd put the Magnum back together again. He sat and twisted the revolver idly, staring at her without really seeing her.

When he took apart his shotgun, she began to play with the unspent shells, knocking them onto the floor from the bed.

Gathering them back up, Gordon put them on the small shelf above his cot.

So she jumped onto the shelf, knocking down the other two boxes of shells he had stored up there as well.

As he bent down to collect those, Gordon stopped.

He looked up at the cat, staring down at him from her perch innocently.

For a few strained, silent moments, everything was alright again. He was back in New Mexico, in Black Mesa, before the crystal had been pushed into the anti-mass spectrometer. Back before even that, in school in Austria, studying teleportation. And before that-- at home in Seattle, arguing with his parents about what to wear to his graduation party.

Then he felt the rocket's test fire rumbling beneath him, heard the shouts of a pair of rebels yelling across the hall, looked at the shotgun shells in his hands, and it all came crashing down.

A sigh forced its way out of his mouth, and he collected the rest of the shells, placing them carefully back into their faded red boxes.

He left one for the cat to bat around, and went back to cleaning his shotgun.

(A/N: My cat was knocking things off of my desk as I wrote this. Coincidence, I swear.)

(EDIT: Forgot to delete a small part where Alyx was there, when she shouldn't have been! Must have been confusing, sorry. Also, apologies for the short chapter. It's a curse, I know.)


	7. Everything Works In Theory

Various rebels were practicing with the Gravity Gun and Magnusson's new weapon the afternoon of the next day. Gordon watched silently from his perch on the building above. It was really an ingenious weapon, at least energy-wise. As far as efficiency went...

"Damn!" cursed a rebel as the humming device flew far over the fake Strider and instantly vaporized.

Gordon absently rubbed Nadia's ears as she sat beside him, studying the bomb-like device.

"Ah, missed again!" yelled the next rebel. Behind them, Magnusson looked on.

He seemed unimpressed-- and Gordon would agree. A few of the rebels were able to place the device square on the Strider's hull, but couldn't seem to discharge their firearm quickly enough. Gordon shook his head. It would take some incredible reflexes to pull off what Magnusson was trying to do, as well as near-perfect aim. He'd fought Striders before, and it was difficult enough to stop from instinctively fleeing from the forty-foot tall monstrosities. And Magnusson wanted them to dance around underneath it, throwing a sticky bomb, _then_ shoot at the sticky bomb while it hung there?

Gordon rubbed at a scar on his neck where a Strider had nearly killed him with its pulse gun, back in City 17. He wondered who they were going to give the Gravity Gun to. Who would actually run out there and attempt that sort of crazy suicide that Magnusson was handing out?

"Freeman!"

He heard his name, and his face fell. Magnusson glared up at him.

"You seem pretty good with the zero-point energy manipulator. Come down here, let's see how you do when you aren't sitting around watching everyone else work."

Gordon sighed. "Just a minute."

He made his way down, taking the stairs and a few corridors to the floor below, where the small crowd of rebels, Magnusson, and his Vortigaunt assistant stood waiting. Nadia hung back, as if knowing that she would be a hassle when she was underfoot.

A rebel handed Gordon the Gravity Gun.

"Um... okay," he muttered.

Magnusson directed him to where the devices were manufactured. Up close, they reminded him of the shape and size of a watermelon. The little tines sticking out from the sides were probably what made it stick to the Striders. The device emanated an intense heat, as if he were standing near an oven.

Gordon grabbed one up with the Gravity Gun and aimed it at the motionless body of the Strider ahead of him. There was the familiar _choom_ sound of the gun firing, and he watched the device fly out in a slow arc.

It fell ten feet short.

He heard the rebels laughing quietly behind him and turned back to retrieve another device.

"Freeman," Magnusson called, "if you think you can't hit it, I'd be glad to get Alyx out here."

"I got it," Gordon bit out, grabbing another one.

This time, it was a direct hit. The bomb made a high-pitched squealing noise as it connected. Gordon reached down for his pistol, realized it wasn't there, and took one from a nearby rebel.

It took two shots. The device exploded with a roar of noise and flash of light.

The rebels clapped.

Gordon just frowned. "Make it move."

Magnusson turned towards him. "Hm?"

"The Strider. Make it move."

The Vortigaunt behind him nodded and went to a control pad against the wall. Gordon watched with sharp eyes as the Strider lurched slowly backwards. It was nothing like what a _real_ one would do. Without a true Strider bearing down upon him, it would be hard to truly test the weapon's capabilites. Magnusson spoke as such from behind him, words that Gordon barely listened to.

He fired a new device as the fake Strider was moving away. The device landed right on top of it, shrieking loudly. It took four pistol shots to hit the device this time, but it still exploded. The Strider dummy was nearing the end of its rigged track now.

The rebels were actually impressed this time around. Gordon glanced at them, and thought he saw an approving look on Magnusson's face, as well.

"Awesome shot, Gordon," came the voice of Alyx. He turned and saw her standing next to Barney on the other side of the small open area, Nadia in her arms.

Barney waved at him after glancing at the cat.

Gordon just shrugged and went to them, satisfied that the device actually did work-- within a firing range.

The sound of the gravity gun discharging and a pistol being fired faded away as they walked through the hallways. Gordon thought it was suicide to try and use the devices in real battle, and told his friends so when they were safely out of Magnusson's earshot.

"You're right, Gordon, but Magnusson's the only one who's actually come up with something to counter them," Alyx pointed out, scratching Nadia's head while the physicist looked at the whiteboard detailing the devices' use.

"It looks like they'll work," Barney put in.

"Probably, but what about Hunters? It'd be pretty simple for them to intervene. Any regular Combine soldier, actually." Gordon turned away from the whiteboard, scratching his neck. "Unless they'll be sending out Striders alone-- which I doubt-- it might be safer to stick with rocket launchers."

"There's only a few of them at the base, and limited rockets," Alyx supplied.

Gordon wondered where they got the materials to even build the sticky bomb-like devices.

As they walked down the hall, Kleiner met up with them, looking more flustered than usual.

"Alyx, Gordon. We've finally decoded the data you brought with you. You will want to see it."

Barney looked at the three vaguely. Alyx and Gordon shared a worried glance.

"Let's go."

---

Gordon stared at the continual loop of the ship _Borealis_ with a wary eye. Just looking at the thing gave him a bad feeling. Not to mention its ties with Aperture... it made him very uncomfortable. Worry dug at his gut. Was Mossman alright? Where _was_ she?

Everything seemed to be coming to a head-- too quickly for Gordon to catch up.

Then Alyx had spoken those _words_, which made him edgy enough.

And when Eli started talking about _that_ man, Gordon felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise up.

Even Nadia seemed to sense it, because she had skittered off down the hall.

The icy cold feeling spreading through his veins came to a complete halt when a panicked voice shouted through the compound's speaker system.

The Striders had come to White Forest.

(A/N: Sorry about not updating as often as I should. I might be putting this story aside for a while, until Episode Three. I'll be releasing a few other fics though if you're interested, and a crossover. Also, am I the only one who saw the Magnusson Devices and went, 'Aw _hell_ no!')


	8. Turnabout

No more time. No more time.

He could hear the Strider's particle cannon charging. The hum filled the air, stealing his breath. Too close. It was too close to the silo.

Warning sirens blared. The Magnusson device sailed through the air.

He was drawing his pistol before it even connected. Finger on the trigger. Pull, pull, _pull!_

A shriek, behind him. A hunter, charging, intercepting him.

Gordon fired.

The last Strider exploded in a rain of too-long legs and salmon-colored fluids. The physicist didn't have time to witness this, however, as the Hunter was upon him. Bellowing in fury, it knocked him to the ground with one powerful strike.

The voice inside the HEV suit went haywire, telling him more things than it had time to say.

_Major fracture detected._

Gordon rolled over, pistol still in hand.

_Blood loss detected._

The Hunter's eyes glared down at him, unfeeling, as cold and blue as an Alaskan winter.

_User death imminent._

He fired the pistol as fast as he could, until the clip ran out, and it was just clicking uselessly in his hand. The Hunter shrieked, bleeding grey, but it was still upon him. He could hear the flechettes whining in preparation to fire. He scrambled backwards.

_Beepbeepbeepbeepbeep. _That must be his heart.

He threw the pistol away. Not enough time to reload. The smooth metal of the crowbar met his hand, and he struck out as fast and as powerfully as he could from his prone position on the ground.

A roar filled his ears, but it wasn't that of the flechettes firing-- no, it was his car, flying in from nowhere to ram the Hunter from the side. Gordon barely had time to dodge the car himself, climbing to his hands and knees and jumping away. The Hunter keeled over with a howl.

The suit was still beeping. Gordon ignored it and turned to look over his shoulder.

Alyx was climbing out of the Dodge, a look of mixed worry and fear and elation on her youthful face.

Gordon smiled at her, despite the pain lancing through his body. He could ignore pain.

The whoops and hollers from behind him said that they had succeeded. The Combine had been driven off.

His smile turned into a grin.

"We did it," Alyx said, although the words didn't need to be spoken.

She was going to say something else, but Gordon scooped her up in his arms instead, clinging to her, to his victory.

"Damn right," he breathed in her ear.

---

They took a quick trip to the infirmary-- more shots, and a few stitches this time, as the Hunter had torn open a gash on the back of Gordon's head that he hadn't even noticed until the nurse had told him so.

Nadia had met them there, and Gordon had been less surprised this time.

On their walk to the rocket bay, Alyx turned to him.

"Is she getting fatter?"

Gordon glanced over the cat as it walked next to them, tail high.

"I can't tell."

"I think she is. What have you been feeding her?"

"There isn't any cat food in the base. So, obviously, eggs and stuff."

Alyx smiled. "You seem to be good at taking care of the helpless, Gordon."

He rolled his eyes. "Tell me about it."

Magnusson stopped them on their way down one corridor. For once, he didn't sneer down at the cat, or give Gordon a 'holier-than-thou' glare. With great difficulty, he _thanked_ him, having obviously rolled the words around in his mouth before uttering them.

"No problem," Gordon had answered easily, although what he really wanted to do was laugh and tell him what kind of hell it had been out in the valley, protecting his precious rocket.

---

The rocket's launch had gone flawlessly. The portal had been neutralized. For the first time since he'd left City 17, Gordon felt something that he thought he'd never feel again: hope.

White Forest was ablaze with high spirits and laughter than night. Gordon had never seen these people, the Resistance, so happy. Even Magnusson joined in on the impromptu 'party,' sharing a bottle of wine with Kleiner. _Laughing._

And Gordon had been the one to turn this tide, to bring this light into the otherwise shadowy lives of these people.

He couldn't have asked for a better outcome.

Eli told jokes to the younger Resistance members, while Alyx looked on and laughed at the poor taste. The fluorescent lights above them were still the same soulless white, but somehow now they seemed _warmer_, more inviting.

Gordon himself sat on a crate, keeping an eye on his cat while she wandered around begging for scraps. Alyx was right-- she _did_ seem to be getting fatter.

A burst of laughter came from the group standing around Eli, and Alyx, shaking her head and smiling, broke away from them, walking over to Gordon.

"You might want to listen in. All the men seem to find them hilarious."

Gordon smiled. "I like it better over here."

She sat next to him. "I... managed to find an old helicopter. It's not in working condition, though. It'll take a while to fix up."

"How long?" he asked, keeping his eyes on his cat.

"Two weeks, maybe more than that."

His smile widened. "Two weeks just hanging around here? I daresay it sounds like... a _vacation_."

"And one well-earned, I assure you."

Gordon laughed. It was the first time he'd done so for months.

That night, he slept. No nightmares plagued him-- instead, he dreamed of fields of light and beautiful brown eyes.

_(A/N: If you're wondering why I never actually include parts from the game in this story, it's because I'm no good at novelizations [unlike Super Chocolate Bear, who is friggin' _fantastic_ and everyone should read his stuff] and it would be crap if I did write it.)_


	9. Begin

Gordon blinked as a drop of oil fell on his face. Pulling on the wrench harder, he pulled loose the broken cable underneath the dusty old helicopter.

The repairs were going as well as they'd hoped. He couldn't do much by himself-- Alyx was the one who knew how to fix it. Gordon was around basically to wrench things loose that she couldn't herself, and play assistant.

It was a nice change, to go from shooting down zombies and running for your life, to screwing wires into a helicopter door. The gash on his head healed well, and so did his leg, with a few extra shots from the nurse.

Nadia hung around the helicopter bay most of the time, batting at dust motes and mostly staying out from underneath their feet. Barney came around sometimes to help, but a new pile of men and women had joined the Resistance at White Forest, and he brought it upon himself to teach them firearm combat.

Eli, Kleiner, and Magnusson continued in their studies, and sometimes Gordon got the chance to join them. It started feeling a bit more like Black Mesa than he was comfortable with.

Kleiner, however, hadn't seen his pet headcrab since the portal had been neutralized. Oftentimes he could be found seeking her out, shining a flashlight into ducts-- even inviting Gordon to climb through them and seek her out, to which he flat-out refused.

It was funny, how things seemed to right themselves even after so many things had fallen apart. Gordon began to feel like he _belonged_ here, in White Forest, fixing helicopters and arguing with Eli and playing poker with Barney.

It was an odd feeling, but not an unwelcome one.

---

One morning, something seemed amiss to the physicist. Nadia wasn't acting much like herself. She hadn't eaten when Gordon had offered her breakfast, and she'd never flat-out refused food. Worry turned his veins a few degrees colder.

He went to the mess hall to find his friends.

"She's not eating," Gordon said to them, as if it explained it all.

"What?"

"Nadia. She won't eat."

Barney looked up from the table. "Gordon, it's a _cat_. Cats are finicky."

"But she loves eggs."

Alyx looked over. "Is she sick?"

"I dunno. Come and see."

---

Nadia was lying on her side when Gordon got back to his room, breathing heavily.

"_That's_ new," he said, worry glazing his tone.

Alyx knelt down and ran her hand over the cat's head. "Gordon, I don't know what's wrong with her. Did she fall down? Maybe Lamarr--"

"I haven't seen Lamarr since the rocket launched. Anyways, how could that headcrab get in here?"

"I don't know." She was running her hands down the cat's side. "She seems bloated, but I can't find any wounds."

"Maybe she got into something poisonous."

While they were discussing the problem, Nadia lurched to her feet and, with great difficulty, climbed onto Gordon's cot. There, she lay back down again, breath huffing quickly through her lungs.

Alyx sat down on the edge of the bed. "I don't know, Gordon. I don't know."

He sighed, and rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. "It's alright. I probably shouldn't have..." he trailed off.

"Gotten attached," Alyx finished for him.

"Yeah." He looked away. "If she's dying, I don't want her to die alone. I'll stay with her."

"Alright." Alyx got up, and gave him a quick hug. "I'm just down the hall, if you need me."

The door shut with a disconnected _click_.

---

Four hours later, she was startled awake by a sudden knock on the door of her own quarters. She climbed into her clothes and opened it.

There was Gordon, standing there, breathless.

"Kittens," he said.

And that _did_ explain it all.

---

There were five-- two piebald, two black, and one calico like Nadia herself. She'd birthed them right on Gordon's cot while he snoozed next to it against the wall.

She groomed them and let them feed, while Resistance members came to visit something they'd only heard stories of for the last twenty years. However, she would let no-one but Gordon handle the little babies, and anyone else who came too close she would scratch and growl at threateningly.

The repairs on the helicopter were well underway. Soon, it would be ready to take off, and Gordon would have to leave the kittens and their mother behind at the base.

---

In the end, it was _Barney_ who took the cat and her kittens-- afterward receiving several violent threats upon his health if anything were to happen to her or them.

"Take good care of my cat. I'm counting on you," Gordon said, making sure his HEV suit was in good order as he slipped it on.

"Don't worry, buddy. I'm good with pets."

"Trust me, she's an independent creature. She can take care of herself. Just make sure nothing happens to her."

"I know, I know."

Gordon scratched his cat's ears one last time before taking up his crowbar and hurrying to meet Alyx at the helipad.

-Fin-

_(A/N: Well, that's it for now. Me and my short chapters. They sure did spend a lot of time in White Forest... yes, the story ended just before the very last scene of Episode Two [those who have finished the game know what I'm talking about]. Many thanks to everyone who took the time to review my fic. This is one of the first I've ever posted on this site, and I hope you liked it. I sure liked writing it. Also, possible sequel? What do you think?)_


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